The definition of a visionary
The visionary is the person who sees potential rather than problems. The person who says, over and over again in response to myriad objections and projections of doom, “But that’s not the point!” The person who gets the importance of newspapers even when there’s no market for them, no means of producing them, and no reliable channels of distribution.
The visionary makes complex things simple and believes the vision is more important than the immediate. She makes quantum leaps—rather than proceeding from A to B, she goes from A to F in the quiet confidence that surely somebody, somewhere, will take care of B, C, D, and E.
It is the man who says “A computer on every desk and in every home,” knowing full well that, in order for that to happen, technology has to improve, prices have to drop, demand has to be created, sales infrastructures have to grow, and consumers have to acquire new skills.
He understands not only his own arena but those surrounding it: the long-term effects of massive socioeconomic shifts caused by phenomena such as deregulation and privatization, and the opportunities created by them.
She spends a lot of time extrapolating multiple threads of possibility: “So if this happens, this should be the result, which would likely cause this…” She also spends a lot of time working backwards, in order to understand what has to happen if the vision is to be realized—and she doesn’t reject where these roads lead even if they seem improbable or intimidating.
A man whose vision, for example, is a completely consistent french fry doesn’t flinch when he realizes what he has to do to make it happen; he simply gets on with the job of changing the entire potato-growing industry to produce more uniform potatoes.
She will often be one of many working on a similar problem—like lightbulbs or motorcars—but she will bring to it a unique perspective that changes everything. The fact that there are many people working on a problem means only that it is a problem worth solving.
Visionaries are often wrong, but they get better over time because of the mere fact that they are paying attention. They are also shunned, mocked, ridiculed, and divorced, and if they don’t have the obsessive single-mindedness that leads all these things to happen, it is unlikely that their visions will ever be realized. The 1% of the story that happens at the end is what makes the difference between a visionary and a failure, and many people don’t wait long enough to find out.
I suspect that it is a far happier thing to read about a visionary than to be one.
What about you?
April 23rd, 2008 at 1:44 pm
I think it’s really great being a visionary. It can be hard at times, especially because you’d like to see your vision become reality now than much later, but all in all it’s good. But I think it would be just as good not being a visionary. You must never forget “hedonic adaptation” (Seligman). Healthy people will like themselves the way they are. But it’s not necessary to derive your happiness from the lack of happiness of others: Just be content with yourself, and hope that others will feel the same.
April 23rd, 2008 at 11:48 pm
Hi there Meryn,
Thanks for your comment; I couldn’t agree more. Regarding your point about not deriving happiness from the lack of happiness of others, did you read Scott Adams’ post about ‘pain leveling’? He’s taken it off his blog now for some reason, but his original definition went like this:
“The way pain leveling works is that when one human encounters another who is in a different level of comfort – either higher or lower – they reflexively look for ways to transfer some pain from the least happy person to the most happy, until the pain is more level.”
Interestingly, in his post he describes someone who turns this phenomenon to his advantage, by always establishing himself as the least lucky person in the group (despite evidence to the contrary).
April 25th, 2008 at 12:37 am
Those people he write about should all read a good book on positive psychology.
May 4th, 2008 at 6:12 am
Per ‘popular psychology’: Though it’s fine to aspire, there’s great risk in easy assumptions. Modern isn’t true and new isn’t reliable. I like these new-rave lyrics, Sixth Form from Wherewithal that argue against anointing happy thoughts when deeper is needed. Our future requires huge effort.